Strangers
by Honey Bee33
Summary: A schoolgirl takes a walk one night and meets a stranger who claims to be a Gundam Pilot. A one-shot on how the Gundam boys might affect the lives of those around them. For Duo fans.


A Stranger That Understands  
  
I got into my dorm room and pulled my dirty hair out of it?s band. P.E. had been hell, as usual. ?I stink,? I thought on my way to the tiny bathroom. ?God, I?ll be happy when highschool?s over.?  
  
I shed the uniform; the short shorts they made us wear, the white shirts that you could see a bra through when a girl got sweaty. Damn perverted private school coaches.  
  
I missed my old school. I missed my privilege of choice; there, I didn?t have to play sports if I didn?t want to. I didn?t have to pass all of my classes with a grade above a C, or wear stupid uniforms for everything I did, and at the end of the day, I was able to go home, to my own room, one that I didn?t have to share with anyone but the people in my posters on the walls.  
  
I got into the shower, and realized there was only just enough shampoo. So, Jenny had been using my shampoo again. She and I were going to have to have another little talk. And great; the soap was gone completely. So, I just decided to get her back by using up all of the hot water.  
  
She was always about twenty minutes late coming back to the room at the end of the day, anyway. She and that boyfriend of hers, and his annoying friend that likes to come around here and annoy the shit out of me. That is if they were able to sneak over here. I prayed they wouldn?t tonight.  
  
When I was done showering, I plugged in the blow dryer. I was halfway done with my hair when sparks started flying out of the dryer. ?What the-?!? I turned the dryer off, and set it down as if it might burst into flames at any second. And at that point, I wouldn?t have been surprised if it had.  
  
Now over the blow dryer, I was grieving over my damp hair. Great. It was going to be all frizzy the next day, and weird-looking. . . but, there are just some things a girl has to deal with.  
  
Then I remembered the wind. I like wind. It had been very windy outside, and by the time I came out of the bathroom to put on a fresh pair of clothes, I was feeling pretty rejuvenated. So, I decided to go for a walk.  
  
I passed Jenny on the way out. She asked me where I was going, and I told her nowhere. Her boyfriend, and that annoying friend of his were there.  
  
?Hey, girl,? the idiot said. ?How you doin???  
  
?Shouldn?t you be getting back to your dorms?? I asked him.  
  
?Probably,? he replied.  
  
?Then you do that,? I said sardonically, walking away. I was probably going to think of something wittier I could have said, later. See, that?s the kind of stuff that drives me nuts. You try so hard to think of something smart to say, and you can?t think of a single thing but the stupid stuff until much later.  
  
I got outside and the cold air hit me. It was just cold enough to cause a slight shiver, the ones that you feel in your chest, that make your teeth rattle.  
  
Luckily, I had two jackets on, so I would be able to curl up somewhere and be warm.  
  
It was 7:00, and the sun was already starting to set. I used what little light the rest of the day had to offer me to get out of the parking lot, across the street, and into the woods.  
  
I tried to ignore the feeling I had in my lower spine while I was crunching over leaves and stumbling over twigs. The feeling that said, ?WARNING, WARNING, DANGER, DANGER.? Not only was I shivering from the cold, but I was shivering from anxiety, now, too. Just great.  
  
I got my mind off of it though, when I found a pond. It was in the middle of a small clearing of the woods, not too far from the edge were the trees started to thin. Above, you could see stars, twinkling already. Had I really been walking that long? I made a face, pausing. I couldn?t really remember.  
  
There was a boulder that sat perfectly against the wind, and I sat against it. It shielded me from the chill, and I warmed up considerably as I stared out onto the small pond. I could hear little noises, dunking sounds coming from the water?s surface. I tried to ignore them, and wished for a CD player.  
  
As my daily complaints were ringing through my head, the stars grew brighter as the sky grew darker.  
  
And that?s when I heard the rhythmic crunching of leaves.  
  
I was not alone.  
  
?Holy crap,? I told myself. ?Calm down. Someone?s probably just out looking for you. It?s not your time tonight. Wait, why am I thinking about death?!?  
  
I whimpered a little and drew my knees up to my chest, hoping maybe the rock would hide me from whoever it was that was out there.  
  
I waited for several minutes, just listening to the crunches get louder. Finally, boots and jeans appeared. Jeans that were being worn on a very nice butt. Looking up further, I noticed a long brown braid, and immediately felt ashamed for looking at another chick that way. But. . . something wasn?t right. The body was too muscular to be a girl. . . not to mention the rough-looking jean jacket. This had to be a guy.  
  
For a long time, I only saw his back. He was staring up at the stars, and from what I could see, he had his hands in his coat pockets for warmth. Puffs of his breath lingered against the night sky from where I watched. Finally, he sighed, and turned around to face the boulder. He saw me, and jumped a little. I still couldn?t see his face; the moon was behind him.  
  
?Oh, I?m sorry,? he said. His voice was gruff; but in a cute way. He had the voice of someone who had a lot to say. Someone friendly, confident, and sharp-witted. Someone with sex appeal. ?I didn?t mean to disturb you.? There was a sad note in his voice.  
  
?It?s alright,? I told him, my plain, unnnoticeable voice no match for his. ?I was just thinking.?  
  
?Mind if I sit?? he asked casually, pointing to the spot on the ground beside me. I shook my head no. It?s not everyday a hot stranger wanders in out of nowhere and asks to sit with you.  
  
He sat, grunting a little, reminding me of the way my dad used to grunt when he would sit. But this guy wasn?t old in the least bit; he was my age, possibly a few years older. I didn?t want to turn and look at him for fear of being perceived as psychotic. . . but I wanted to see his face.  
  
We just sat there, two strangers, at that boulder for our own reasons. I wondered idly about why he was there. People - well, people like me, anyway - only come out to places as serene as this to think. And his voice had sounded sad. . . I wondered what bothered him so much. Probably obsessing over a girl. That?s just my luck.  
  
?Funny,? he said suddenly, surprising me for a moment, ?how bright the stars are, tonight.?  
  
?Aren?t they bright every night?? I asked.  
  
He shrugged. ?Yeah. But I hardly get to see them. Had to sneak out of my dorm.?  
  
?Oh, you go to the boys? school.?  
  
He nodded. ?How?d you find this place?? he asked.  
  
?Just came across it,? I responded. ?You??  
  
?Same.?  
  
It was funny; I felt so comfortable around this guy. No nervousness, no feeling cautious about what I say or do around him. He was looking for someone to talk to, and he?d found me. So I let him talk all he wanted to.  
  
?Why you here?? he asked.  
  
?School,? I replied. ?I hate my school. I can?t remember the last time I was ever happy.?  
  
He snorted. ?I know how that is.?  
  
?How about you?? I asked. ?Is that why you?re here?? I took the chance to look at him. Just at that moment, he looked down. I had missed his eyes, but I could see his face, now. He was very handsome. Almost boyish-looking, but in a rough way. Even though he wasn?t smiling, I could tell he was one of those people with a smile that would make your heart melt.  
  
?Uh. . .? he said almost sheepishly, ?yeah.? He stretched his long legs out in front of him. He was tall. ?I pretend to be happy.?  
  
It was my turn to snort. ?I don?t,? I disagreed. ?I let people know what I don?t like. Only a few people deserve my nice side. The ones at my school, anyway.?  
  
He chuckled. ?You sound exactly like someone I know.?  
  
?Who?? I asked curiously.  
  
?He?s a friend,? was the guy?s soft reply. ?It hurts sometimes, to know people like that.?  
  
I thought about it. He was right.  
  
?People like you,? he continued, ?need to tell people when you care about them. They could take something the wrong way. They could think you hate them, when all the while, you love them.?  
  
I nodded. ?Does your friend hurt you??  
  
He was silent for a beat, then said weakly, ?Yeah.?  
  
?Maybe you should tell him.?  
  
?I just did, tonight. He didn?t say anything. So I left.?  
  
I wasn?t sure what to tell him. His problems sounded a lot worse than mine. At least I wasn?t all angsty over someone.  
  
?And it doesn?t help that I move around a lot,? he went on. ?I meet people that I really care about. . . and sometimes I don?t know where I am in their heart when I leave. And I never hear from them again.?  
  
I looked at him. He was looking out across the pond, now, the moon sparkling in his eyes. ?Excuse me if I?m being too forward,? I said, ?but you don?t seem like the type of person that?s forgotten.?  
  
He looked at me then, surprised. He shook his head slightly. ?I know,? he said knowledgeably. ?People like the idea of me. . . but no one. . . no one really knows me.?  
  
?Am I. . . am I seeing the real you?? I asked. He looked at me then, and smirked. ?Yeah.? He put a finger to his lips. ?Shhh.?  
  
I couldn?t help but smile. ?Why do I get the privilege??  
  
He sighed at looked up at the sky. ?Because you?re a stranger. One that?s easy to talk to, I might add.? He smiled.  
  
I had never really considered myself easy to talk to. Most of the time I never knew what to say about anything.  
  
?What about you?? he asked. ?Am I seeing the real you??  
  
I looked to the ground. ?I guess so.?  
  
?Why is it so much easier to talk to someone you don?t know?? he asked then. ?It?s odd; you wouldn?t think things would work that way.?  
  
?Life?s funny,? I told him.  
  
?Yeah. . .? he said. He was quiet a moment, and then he asked, ?Where do you think you?ll be in five years??  
  
I chewed my lip. ?I dunno. . . college, I guess, if my parent?s keep pushing. How about you??  
  
?Dead, probably.?  
  
The comment startled me. ?Dead? Why??  
  
He looked at the ground. ?Like I said. . . I move around a lot.? He looked back up then, searching the sky for something. ?Oh!? he exclaimed softly. ?Look there!? He pointed up.  
  
?It?s a comet,? I said, unfazed.  
  
?No, that?s a Gundam.?  
  
?What? Really?? I looked at it again. It really just looked like a small comet. ?How can you tell??  
  
?There?s another mobile doll; do you see it? They?re fighting. I wonder who?s winning,? he said with a troubled note.  
  
?The Gundam, no doubt,? I said without a second thought. ?Why are they fighting anyway? This whole war doesn?t make a lick of sense to me.?  
  
He looked at me then with wise - blue - eyes. ?You wouldn?t want to know,? he said then. ?It?s very complicated.?  
  
?How do you know? Are you involved, somehow??  
  
?. . . You could say that.? He pulled his braid out from behind his back and ran his fingers over the end of it.  
  
?Why do you have that?? I asked curiously.  
  
?What, this?? he asked, holding it up.  
  
I nodded.  
  
He looked at the braid. ?It?s a reminder to me. Of why I do. . . what I do. You wouldn?t understand.?  
  
?Try me.?  
  
He looked at me and smirked with an appraising glance, then said, ?All right. I?m a Gundam pilot.?  
  
I laughed. ?I don?t believe you.?  
  
He shrugged. ?I said you wouldn?t understand. Doesn?t matter. You?re someone who doesn?t have to care about that. That?s why I like you.?  
  
I was a little confused, but I let it slide.  
  
?I think you and I would be great friends,? he said, standing up, ?if we knew each other.?  
  
I smiled up at him. ?I don?t have to know you to consider you my friend. But I would like to know your name.?  
  
He smiled. ?I?m no one, really.?  
  
?Well, I?ll tell you mine-?  
  
?No,? he interrupted. ?I?d like to remember you as the stranger I met.? He grinned. ?It?ll make you stand out from everyone else.?  
  
I smiled. ?All right. I?d like that.?  
  
He winked. His expression turned serious, then.  
  
I stood up. ?Since you?re going to be dead in five years, Stranger. . .? I held out my hand. He ignored it, and put his arms around my shoulders, hugging me to him. I was slightly shocked. I stood there for a second, then hugged him back.  
  
?I?m sorry,? he apologized. ?I?ve just been needing someone. You?re the closest person I could find.?  
  
I smiled. ?It?s all right. Everybody needs someone, sometimes. Even if it is a stranger.?  
  
?A stranger that understands.?  
  
I smiled and held him closer to me. The hug was the most reassuring hug I would ever receive in my lifetime. I knew from that hug, that he understood me, and I felt the same way in return. It was a hug that gave us both hope that everything would turn out all right.  
  
?I?m not sure if I want to die,? he muttered into my hair. ?But I have to be ready for it.?  
  
?Then focus on living. You seem like a survivor.?  
  
He breathed a small laughed. It was warm air on my forehead. ?You?re right.?  
  
He felt nice. He felt safe, like a big brother. ?Thank you for making my problems not seem so bad,? I laughed. ?And I?ll make sure to be nicer to people. I really should take my own advice; focus on living.?  
  
He nodded. ?Be productive.?  
  
I laughed, finding the way he said it funny. ?And you live,? I told him, looking up at him. ?Maybe we?ll meet again someday.?  
  
He sighed, and looked down at me. ?Maybe.?  
  
Then, with a smile, he turned away, and went back to wherever he came from. I wondered about him for a long time. He?d been joking about being a Gundam pilot, I knew; but what could he have been doing that was so dangerous? I shrugged, not really expecting to ever see him again.  
  
But I would always keep this stranger of a friend in my heart. He was one of those people that you meet, and can?t let go of. I couldn?t explain why, and I didn?t question it. That was just the way things were.  
  
Five years later, I was looking through the paper. The war had ended long ago, and everyone had went on with their lives. I was in college, supposed to be studying, but not really wanting to.  
  
The article on the Gundam pilots was much more interesting. Someone had discovered who they all were.  
  
Were, being the keyword. They were all gone, somewhere. Missing, assumed dead. The pictures they had of them weren?t the best. They were really grainy, and mostly from security cameras or inside pictures that the late OZ organization had taken.  
  
I came to pilot number two, a Duo Maxwell. The picture wasn?t that great. He was sneaking in somewhere, and reaching up to cut the camera off. He looked oddly familiar, even though I couldn?t really see his features too clearly. He wore a black baseball cap on his head situated to hood his eyes, and there was actually a smirk on his face. It kind of made me want to laugh. This guy must have really enjoyed breaking into places.  
  
Then, I noticed something. I looked down into the bottom corner of the page, where he was cut off at the chest.  
  
A thick brown braid lay over his shoulder.  
  
I was certainly smart enough to put two and two together.  
  
But that didn?t mean I wasn?t surprised. I had met a Gundam Pilot. I had hugged and consoled an actual Gundam pilot, totally unaware of the extent of his sufferings.  
  
?So you?re name was Duo Maxwell,? I spoke aloud to his picture. ?I wonder if you?re still alive, Duo Maxwell. If you are. . . I hope we meet again, someday. If you aren?t. . . rest in peace.?  
  
Owari 


End file.
